


Sweatshirt Season

by ParadoxalPen



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, College, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Light angst but it's like really really light, Long-Distance Relationship, Romance, This is just all one big fluff fest, and Quinn is an even bigger shit, and together they make happy rainbows and gay trash, bc Rachel is a lil shit, slightly cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 11:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21160565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadoxalPen/pseuds/ParadoxalPen
Summary: Rachel is a lil heart-stealing thief, but she’s also a sweatshirt-stealing one, and Quinn has no idea whether to curse her or kiss her senseless. (She damn well knows that it’s the latter, but let her delusion herself a bit, yeah?) – Long-distance college Faberry fluff.





	Sweatshirt Season

**Author's Note:**

> Faberry – In which this was supposed to be 800 words for tumblr (yes come follow me for ficlets pls thank) which turned into me trying to keep this under 3k which turned into this. Idk at this point lmao.  
Note: Like basically all my fics, this fic goes ahead and says fuck you to canon; s3 never happened, and I will also fail to acknowledge Lucy and Babygate’s existence (until I release fics about it) until the day I die. That is all.

See, when it happens for the first time, Quinn thinks nothing of it.

One of her Yale sweatshirts randomly goes missing out of the blue one day, and she simply waves it off as her accidentally misplacing it somewhere or it getting thrown out mistakenly, not really caring much about it.

She has plenty of them in her closet anyway, so it doesn’t matter that one’s gone.

Shrugging it off, she just pulls on another one and heads to class – she has better things to worry about, since one sweatshirt really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, and she forgets all about it.

**x.X.x**

The second time though, it gives her pause.

There’s really no way she’d have lost another one by her own accord, having been extra careful with her belongings since then, and furrowing her brow, she heads over down the hallway to her friends’ dorms to ask if they’ve seen it anywhere.

When all her leads come up short – well, all the leads that are within ten steps of walking distance, at least – she sighs and trudges back to her dorm room, not caring enough to check any further.

Weird coincidences _do_ happen, especially with the way Quinn really hasn’t had any brainpower to spare lately, so she just dismisses it again, resolving to just take extra care of her belongings next time.

All her time’s been taken up by school and Rachel lately; it wouldn’t be that big of a stretch.

But speaking of which, as Quinn opens the door to her room, Rachel…is apparently lounging on her bed on her elbows right now, humming noncommittedly as she flips through a magazine cheerily.

Closing the door to her room behind her, Quinn pushes down the happiness of seeing Rachel unexpectantly at Yale, and she asks, “Surprise visit?”

Rachel doesn’t flick her eyes up to meet her, but the edge of her lips quirk into a secret little smile. “Something like that, yeah. Your roommate let me in.”

“Didn’t you miss me?” Quinn gasps dramatically in faux-hurt, and her girlfriend giggles, finally getting off the bed and bouncing up to Quinn to give her a quick kiss.

“I missed you a lot baby,” Rachel confirms with a light laugh, and Quinn pulls the brunette into her arms, soaking up the physical contact and the warmth of finally having Rachel wrapped up around her again.

It’s been a week since she last visited Yale – and a bit more than that since Quinn hopped on a train to New York – but it’s already felt like a lifetime, Quinn having gone without sleeping curled up against a petite body almost too long to bear, and she feels a grin splitting her face at the fact that Rachel’s in her dorm right now.

“I missed you a lot too Rae,” she says, nuzzling into brown tresses. “It’s been way too long.”

Rachel hums in contentment against her neck, and the diva sighs, “It really has been. Skyping with you isn’t as good as the real thing by a long shot, even if we do it every day.”

“But you still want to do this right?” Quinn asks, that same old feeling of insecurity rising up within her. Both of them have talked about this a lot, reassuring the other repeatedly that they’re in this for the long haul, but old worries and fears are hard to shake. “The long-distance thing?”

“You know I’ll always be in this with you, long-distance or not,” Rachel assures her immediately, a soft look on her face as she draws back a little to see Quinn more clearly. “We’ve been dating for approximately one year and a month, you should know by now that you’re never getting rid of me Fabray.”

“Nor will I ever want to.” Quinn shrugs, and Rachel smiles, pulling her into another sweet kiss.

Quinn lets herself drown in the addicting taste of Rachel’s lips, and she lets out a satisfied exhale as she guides them to the bed, falling down onto it in a heap of limbs and body parts.

This – the physical intimacy between them – has always come easily to them in their relationship, and Quinn savors and revels in it, loving how she seems to know every part of Rachel inside and out as well as Rachel knows her.

Maybe it’s because they’ve spent too long so close yet so far from each other, from heated hallway confrontations to tearful confessions around pianos, (or as Santana likes to phrase it, ‘blatantly running circles around the stupidly obvious UST you two fucking have’,) but no matter the case, Quinn’s grateful for it.

She’s grateful for _Rachel_.

Shifting so that Rachel’s weight falls on her better, she murmurs against plump lips, “You staying the night?”

At Rachel’s prolonged silence, she sighs, feeling that familiar longing in her chest surface. “You have to get back soon, don’t you?”

“By tomorrow, since this was kind of a spontaneous visit,” Rachel confirms quietly, and Quinn bites her lip, breathing through her nose.

She doesn’t want to spoil the mood though, so she simply finds it in herself to force out a small smile. “Well, guess we have to make most of the time then.”

Rachel nods against her, and then Quinn is quickly switching their positions so that she’s on top instead, effectively pinning the brunette down with a smirk.

“_Quinn_,” Rachel whines, and she laughs.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you,” she promises, and then Rachel is screaming her name for a very _different_ reason instead.

She reckons that they’ll make it through this just fine.

**x.X.x**

Later, when they’re wrapped up on the couch and watching a trashy romcom, Rachel shifts uncomfortably from next to her, and Quinn swallows, a pool of dread already building up in her stomach.

“Time for you to go?”

Rachel gives a resigned nod with regretful eyes. “Time for me to go.”

“I’ll walk you to the train station,” Quinn sighs, planting a kiss against the side of Rachel’s head as she gets up to head to her room, and she rummages through her closet for clothes to change into.

“Gah, my sweatshirts are all disappearing so quickly,” she complains off-handedly as she feels Rachel’s arms wrap around her waist, as if the brunette is soaking all of this up before she has to leave again. “It’s like they’re all running away from me, it’s so weird.”

“Yeah,” Rachel echoes absently. “Weird.”

And that’s the end of that.

**x.X.x**

The third time it happens, it’s really just kind of absurd.

“-and remember when I told you that my Yale sweatshirts are mysteriously disappearing yesterday?” she brings up over the phone with Rachel. “I was checking my closet today, and turns out I’ve lost another one! Like how I went from four to just the one now in the span of a few weeks, I have no idea.”

There’s a small silence from the other end of the line, and then, “…Maybe you just misplaced them?”

“There’s no way,” Quinn dismisses. “I’m positive that it was there yesterday when you were with me, but now it’s just gone! I swear, there’s like a sweatshirt monster in the back of my closet from Narnia or something.”

“Mm,” Rachel simply hums back with surprisingly little to say on the matter, an indecipherable edge to her tone, and Quinn presses her lips together.

“I’m sorry for bothering you with my shit,” she sighs with an apologetic tone, before sheepishly admitting, “I just- I kind of actually liked those sweatshirts a lot.”

“Oh, no Quinn, you aren’t bothering me at all, you know how much I love hearing you talk about your day,” Rachel says immediately, and she almost sounds guilty about something as she continues, “and…and I’m sorry that your sweatshirts are strangely disappearing from existence. I’m sure you’ll…find them soon somewhere.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Quinn shrugs even though she knows Rachel can’t see it.

“Look, I’ll go with you to buy a few new ones, kay?”

Rachel sounds as if she’s desperate to get the attention off her, which in turn just interests Quinn more, but she’s just finished studying for a big exam and she’s tired to the bone, so she lets her girlfriend off the hook for now, closing her eyes as she rests her head against her pillow.

“Sure,” she agrees, and they move on to Rachel’s day instead, chatting meaninglessly in all the ways that mean the most.

The curious case of the missing sweatshirts will have to wait.

**x.X.x**

…Except, the next time Quinn loses clothing, it’s not her sweatshirts.

It’s her fucking hoodies. And not just one hoodie, no, it’s _five_ hoodies. Fucking five!

This is kind of getting ridiculous, to say the least.

Bursting into her roommate’s room, she says, “I just lost five hoodies.”

On her bed, there’s a beat of silence, and then Sarah is barking out a laugh. “Damn, that’s amazing.”

In response, Quinn purses her lips. “You really aren’t stealing my clothes?” she asks warily.

“Nope,” Sarah replies swiftly, with a roll of her eyes. “I like you Q, but not _that_ much.”

Choosing to believe her roommate for now, Quinn lets out an irritated hum. “I swear, at the rate I’m losing clothes I’m going to run out of them soon,” she mutters, a slight whine to her voice, “and that star hoodie was one of my favorites too.”

At that, Sarah perks up, an interested look on her face. “Wait, I thought you gave that one to your tiny girlfriend.”

Quinn’s brow furrows. “What?”

“Last time she was here I saw her folding and putting it into her bag while humming one of those stupidly cheerful songs of hers.” Sarah gives her a shrug from where she’s reclined on her bed, and a thoughtful beat passes between the both of them, before her roommate’s lips are quirking into a smile. “Well, I think we’ve found our little – or very little I guess, cos we’re talking about _Shortstack_ here – sweatshirt stealer.”

“…Huh.”

Quinn’s still semi-processing it when Sarah’s smile turns into a smirk. “Though, I don’t know _why’d_ she resort to stealing when she could’ve just directly ripped the clothes off of you and-”

“_Sarah_,” Quinn warns, and her roommate laughs, uncaring of her threats.

“So what cha going to do about it?” Sarah asks, before her eyes gleam as she continues, “you going to _punish_ her or som-”

“Sarah!”

In reply to Quinn’s growl, Sarah simply cackles.

Taking a pillow from the bed, Quinn narrows her eyes and throws it at her roommate with all the strength she possesses, making Sarah let out a yelp as she dodges it. “Oi, stop the violent tendencies dammit,” she complains with a grin, and Quinn groans as she walks out of the room.

“Wait, does that mean yes or no to the punishing?” Sarah’s voice follows her out of the room. “Because, like, I need to _know_ these things.”

Quinn slams the door shut.

“Well _that’s_ rude,” is the muffled reply that follows, “you really need to get laid, try phone sex with Berry maybe, that helps.”

At the select curse words that make their way out of Quinn’s mouth and through the door, Sarah laughs. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?” There’s a silence from the other side of the door for a beat – _for fucking once_, Quinn grumbles – before, “…Actually, wait you probably kiss _Rachel_ with that mouth, oh god, ew, never mind.”

Quinn mouths ‘oh my god’, shakes her head, and goes back to her room where there are no annoying roommates ruining her day.

Good fucking riddance.

But then, the thought of Rachel stealing her clothes pops back into her mind again, and she grins as she thinks of an idea.

Time for an impromptu visit to New York City.

**x.X.x**

Luckily for her, her classes for the rest of the day have been canceled, and she knows that both Kurt and Rachel have a free day today, so she hops onto the train without much concern about school or their schedules.

She still texts Kurt about it though, because she likes to be thorough about these things.

As she gets off the train and onto the station platform, the first thing she notices is an acapella group to the side, belting out _Imagine_ from Ariana Grande, and a grin etches itself onto her face – the New York air is strong today.

When she makes it to the apartment Rachel shares with Kurt, she swiftly sends a text for Kurt to let her in sneakily without letting Rachel know, and she gets smuggled in easily, Kurt giving her a quick hug of greeting.

Over the course of Quinn’s relationship with Rachel during senior year of high school, she had gotten much closer to the boy, bonding over their coming out at first before turning it into a steady friendship.

Once he’d gotten over his holier-than-you attitude (and according to him, Quinn with her repressed stick up her ass), they really had a lot more in common than they thought, and of course, Rachel had been happy to see them get along so well, even if more often than naught they’d band together to tease her mercilessly.

“How are you doing?” she asks with a small smile, though she can’t quite hide her flickering eyes.

“I’ve been run ragged with exams, but otherwise I’m fine.” Kurt smiles back, Quinn trying her best to appear invested in the conversation, and he obviously notices as his eyes take on a knowing look. “But really Quinn, just ask me. I know that’s like the only reason you’re here.”

Quinn’s about to protest, but a look from him makes a sheepish smile dawn on her face. “Yeah yeah,” she grumbles. “…Where’s Rachel?”

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Kurt chuckles, before he tips his head towards Rachel’s room. “She’s napping, so be quiet when you’re near.”

Quinn’s eyes flash in understanding. “Rough day?”

“She misses you,” Kurt says, offering a comforting smile. “And her crazy dance teacher embarrassing her in front of the class today didn’t help much either.”

“Why didn’t she call me then?” Quinn’s brow furrows, eyes worried.

Kurt shrugs. “Same reason why you don’t sometimes.”

Quinn stubbornly refuses to respond, and at his _don’t be obtuse_ look, she lets out a breath. “…Because we both think that we shouldn’t burden the other with our problems, I know, I know, we’ve talked about it,” she grudgingly admits, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

“And she gets bouts of panic at how _much_ she misses you, so she tries to cope as best as she can,” Kurt sighs, before adding, “_alone_, for that same reason you just listed.”

“Trust me, I know the feeling,” Quinn exhales. There are days where she misses Rachel so much it _hurts_, a numb ache in her chest that she absolutely hates, and both Quinn and Rachel have broken down crying over the phone because of it before. A beat passes, and she confesses, “Sometimes, I regret not choosing Columbia instead.”

“But your relationship has only gotten stronger because of the distance,” Kurt offers a silver lining, and his lips quirk into a smile. “It’s admirable actually, how you two seem to manage weekly visits and daily calls without drifting apart, not like-” He abruptly cuts off here, his smile turning sour. “…Not like Blaine and I did,” he breathes out bitterly.

At that, Quinn tries to keep her face from contorting to sympathy, knowing that he doesn’t want it, and instead she sighs and opens her arms, saying, “Here, give me a hug.”

Kurt lets out a light dry sound that’s trapped between a cry and a laugh, and steps into her embrace. “I get an elusive Quinn Fabray comfort hug, huh? How generous you must be feeling today.”

“I blame Rachel for everything.”

“Yeah, she has a way of doing that to you,” Kurt says with a light, fond laugh, before musing, “…you really do give nice hugs.”

“So I’ve heard people say.” Quinn shrugs, and Kurt detangles himself from the hug.

“I’m afraid that Rachel will kill me for stealing her Quinn-hugs,” he chuckles, somewhat cheered up now, and he gently pushes Quinn towards Rachel’s room. “Now go and make your lady feel better.”

Quinn arches a brow at him, and he rolls his eyes. “At least keep your voices down if the way you want to do that will scar my poor ears.”

And really, she can’t resist a light laugh, throwing him a lopsided grin. “Will do.”

**x.X.x**

Slowly pushing the door open and going inside Rachel’s room with quiet footsteps that Sue Sylvester would be proud of, on the bed she spots Rachel turned on her back, blanket pulled up to her neck.

Her face unknowingly morphs into a quiet smile at the sight, already feeling calmer at the presence of her girlfriend, and she can’t help but linger a bit, simply content to continue admiring the gentle rise and fall of the blankets covering Rachel.

She figures that questioning Rachel about her sweatshirts can come later, because by the way that she’s breathing, Quinn can tell that she’s dead tired, and to be honest, Quinn is too, basically just running on coffee and sheer willpower at this point.

A nap curled up with her girlfriend sounds tempting as hell, and it’d do her weary body a good of good as well, so in no time, she’s stripped down to just her black tank top and panties, crawling underneath the sheets to settle next to Rachel.

She lets out a sigh at how _good_ it feels to be laying next to her girlfriend again, the familiar scent and body heat comforting, and she molds her form to cling onto Rachel, spooning her with Quinn’s front pressed against Rachel’s back.

At the contact, the brunette stirs slightly, her breaths turning sharper as she awakens from her slumber groggily, and there’s a slight beat as Rachel tenses at the new presence in her bed.

She relaxes quickly at recognizing Quinn, and she turns around in the blonde’s arms while blinking slowly, as if she’s not quite believing that Quinn’s lying next to her right now.

When it’s clear from Rachel’s swollen eyes and dried tear tracks that she’s been crying, Quinn feels her chest contort at the sight, and she presses a kiss to the brunette’s temple. “Sleep,” she says, cuddling herself even closer to Rachel. “We’ll talk when we wake up, okay?”

Feeling Rachel’s arm curl around her in a well-rehearsed routine, it seems like the brunette is still not over processing the fact that Quinn’s in her bed, just letting out a small hum as a reply, but both of them are just sleepy as hell, and the comfort and safety of being wrapped up in the other’s arms lulls them to sleep quickly.

Before Quinn surrenders to Hypnos though, she hears it, faint and sleepy. “I missed you,” Rachel mumbles while yawning, obviously fighting the urge to succumb to sleep, and she snuggles even closer into Quinn’s chest.

“Go to sleep,” Quinn reminds softly, and Rachel hums.

“Kay kay,” her girlfriend breathes. “I love you.”

And it’s then, even through the heavy haze of drowsiness over her eyelids, Quinn fights to keep her eyes open, if only for a few more seconds. “I love you too,” she murmurs, because she’d made a promise to herself that she’d always say it back to Rachel, and she’s very much intent on keeping it. “Now sleep Rae.”

There’s another faint hum of acknowledgement, and as soon as Quinn hears the evened out breathing signifying that Rachel’s asleep, she follows the girl into her dreams willingly, getting some rest in the warmth of her girlfriend’s arms.

**x.X.x**

When she enviably wakes, the feeling of Rachel calms her immediately, and blinking away the urge to go back to sleep, she casts a glance to the alarm clock on the nightstand to her right with drowsy eyes.

It shows back a 8:00 pm, which means that they’ve been napping for 4 hours now, and she lets out a content sigh.

Brushing a stray lock of hair on Rachel’s face back into place, her breath can’t help but catch at the serene expression that her girlfriend’s wearing, the little creases in her face from tiredness all relaxed and at peace.

Rachel always looks beautiful, but when she’s sleeping she looks absolutely _ethereal_, and Quinn loves basking in these moments.

She continues to just stare at Rachel’s face, eyes raking over each perfect ridge and contour with a reverence as she commits it all to memory, and it vaguely occurs to her that she’s being creepy and probably should stop, but then Rachel’s breathing patterns become less evened out, telling Quinn that she’s waking up.

After a few moments, it’s clear that the brunette is pretending to be asleep though, and a small smile etches onto Quinn’s face as she props herself up with her elbow.

“Oh _Rachel_,” she sings, gently stroking her thumb against a tanned arm. “Time to wake up.”

Rachel shows no reaction, and Quinn flatly says, “Barbra is right outside your doorstep right now and wants to marry you.”

At that, her girlfriend shifts slightly, as if she’s trying her best to keep still, and Quinn narrows her eyes.

“Rachel Barbra Berry you better stop acting like you’re asleep and give me a wake-up peck before I cut you off,” she threatens, and when Rachel practically darts up at the speed of light, she has a hard time keeping in her laugh.

“Quinn Fabray, I hardly think that you would need resort to such drastic measures,” Rachel huffs, pouting. “And how do you always manage to tell that I’m awake anyway?”

“Wake-up kiss first,” Quinn demands stubbornly, and even though she can tell that Rachel wants it too, the brunette takes on the challenge, wrinkling up her nose in determination.

“No,” Rachel refuses, not giving in and as obstinate as Quinn is. “Not until you tell me how.”

“_Rachel_,” Quinn growls, or at least tries too, since she’s sure that her laugher is evident in her eyes.

“_Quinn_,” Rachel mirrors in response, and it’s clear that her girlfriend is holding back a smile as well.

“Kiss.”

“Tell.”

“Sex.”

“…Shit that’s tempting.”

Its then that Quinn’s unable to hold in her laughter, and it bursts the dam, Rachel descending into a fit of giggles next to her too.

Giving her a light peck, Rachel finally succumbs to Quinn’s wishes, and Quinn hums in slightly smug pleasure. When Rachel peers up at her and clearly expectant of an answer, Quinn explains, “I have your breathing patterns memorized. When you’re trying not to laugh or giggle it’s lighter and in sharp intakes, and when you’re asleep it’s much slower and more evened out.”

“You…have my breathing patterns memorized?” Rachel questions, almost as if she’s in awe, and Quinn dawns a sheepish smile.

“I just…pay attention to these kinds of things I guess,” she mumbles, and Rachel gives her a wide beam, planting another quick kiss to her lips.

“But anyway, Kurt told me that your day was rough, and you’ve obviously been crying,” Quinn changes gears, aiming concerned eyes at her girlfriend. “You okay?”

Rachel seems to stifle a smile. “Would it be cheesy if I say that better now that you’re here?”

“Immensely so, yes.” Quinn’s eyes gleam. “But I’d love you all the more for it.”

“…Then I’m feeling much better in your arms now, and I’m so happy that you’re here,” Rachel replies without a beat, smile unable to be kept at bay now. “Why _are_ you here, anyway? Not that I’m complaining at all.”

It’s then that Quinn notices that the sweatshirt Rachel’s wearing is actually _hers_, and she alters her plan a little bit, simply letting out a small grin. “Is it so inconceivable that I simply wanted to see my girlfriend?”

“You’re up to something,” Rachel accuses, but then the brunette sighs in content, pushing that away for now. “I missed you _so_ much, you have no idea.”

“Oh, trust me, if it was only just a fraction of how much I missed you, then I would.” Quinn laughs lightly, before the moment turns almost softer. “…You know you can talk to me about stuff, right? I’ll always be here for you.”

“Pot, meet kettle,” Rachel mutters teasingly, and Quinn flushes slightly.

“I know, I know,” she sighs. “How about we make a pact, to not be afraid about calling each other about a rough day or missing the other too much?”

There’s a moment of silence from Rachel, before, “…We are _so_ going to break that pact one way or another.”

“Probably, yeah,” Quinn giggles. “But it’s the thought that counts or whatever.”

“Okay then,” Rachel agrees, before her voice turns demanding. “Now cuddle with me some more, I’m sleepy.”

“We’re neglecting Kurt.”

“…He’ll live.”

“Mm,” Quinn simply hums with laughter in her eyes, but then Rachel’s resting her head on her chest and then she’s dozing off into sleep again.

**x.X.x**

It’s about an hour later when Kurt knocks on the door quietly, waking Quinn up again, and he mouths ‘dinner time’ to her.

Sending back a sleepy hum in reply, Kurt gets the message well enough as he leaves them alone, and Quinn sighs, unwilling to let go of this warmth just yet.

She loves this – just lying in bed with Rachel and both of them wrapped in the other’s arms, just Quinn and Rachel and Rachel and Quinn _being_. It sends her the biggest of rushes and yet the calmest of safety, and she hopes against hope that it’ll always be like this.

Gently nudging the sleeping brunette in her arms, Rachel awakes slowly, eyes fluttering open, and Quinn smiles at the slight, the unguarded expression on her girlfriend’s face full of freeing affection.

“Hey there sleepyhead,” she greets, grin evident in her voice, and Rachel just lets out a whine at her sleep being disturbed, burying her head closer into Quinn’s chest as the blonde laughs. “Come on Rach,” she coaxes. “Time for food.”

“But Quinn-cuddles,” Rachel protests with her voice muffled, and the adorableness of her girlfriend is just too much to take, causing Quinn to tangle a hand into Rachel’s hair to run through it lightly with a slight tug.

If anything, that just seems to make Rachel even less willing to get out of bed, and the mewl of content that erupts from the brunette’s chest makes Quinn sigh. “_Rachel_,” she tries again, and when her girlfriend simply lets out a childish grunt, it’s hard to keep in her smile. “You can have your cuddles later; I’m staying till like after lunch tomorrow so you’ll have me _all_ night.”

At that, Rachel freezes in her tantrum, hopefully echoing, “…All night?”

Quinn barely smothers her laugh, and she agrees, “All night.”

There’s a beat of silence as Rachel contemplates this, still buried in Quinn’s chest – honestly how is her girlfriend so damn _cute_? – and then, “…Kay kay.”

“Oh god, why do I have to coddle you into eating _dinner_,” Quinn faux-complains, groaning dramatically, and Rachel, from her spot now propped up by her elbow, lets out a giggle, planting a quick kiss on Quinn’s lips for her efforts.

“Because you love me, and I love you back,” Rachel sing-songs.

Quinn grumbles under her breath, “Unfortunately.”

Rachel lets out an indignant huff at that, and she laughs. “Okay, okay, I love you more than anything and I couldn’t be happier about it. Happy now?”

“Very much so, yes.”

Quinn narrows her eyes at that, and Rachel’s laughter is evident in her eyes as she puts on an innocent mask. “What?”

“_Rachel_.”

They have a stare-off for a few more seconds, Quinn unwilling to budge, and finally, Rachel lets out a heaving sigh. “Fine, I love you too.”

“Wow, such a ringing endorsement,” she says dryly, and Rachel’s giggle can’t be contained.

“Mm, I love you more than I love Barbra,” the brunette offers with a teasing smile, and Quinn can’t even bring herself to roll her eyes.

“Come here, you little brat.”

Her voice is fond as she pulls Rachel into her arms, her girlfriend automatically moving to rest on her shoulder, and she hears Rachel settle in satisfaction.

Shifting so as to meet hazel eyes, Rachel’s chestnut brown holds so much love and affection that Quinn’s struck by them, smitten just like the first time all over again, and she can’t help but hold her breath.

“You are the love of my life, Quinn Fabray, and nothing will _ever_ change that.”

Rachel’s declaration is soft, firm and unyielding in its truth almost as if it’s too simple, and it’s cheesy as all hell, but it still makes Quinn melt at the seams; the next thing she knows, she’s kissing Rachel like no tomorrow, morning (or is it night?) breath be damned.

“This is vastly unhygienic, you know,” Rachel notes as she draws back, a taken smile on her face that Quinn knows is only reserved for _her_ and her alone.

She quirks a brow. “Do I look like I care?”

“Quinn Fabray, the rebel as always,” her girlfriend laughs lightly.

“Yeah yeah,” Quinn grumbles as she ushers them out of bed. “Now come on, we need to go freshen up and _eat_, I’m famished.”

“Oh really?” Rachel drawls, and she can just _tell_ that the brunette is up to something. “I’m actually rather hungry for…something _else_.”

Ignoring the wave of arousal that surges through her, Quinn puts on as deadpan a look as she can. “Brush your teeth first, Berry.”

At the wide pout that’s aimed at her, she simply smirks, before leaning in to Rachel’s ear. “If you’re good, I might even _reward _you later.”

That sends Rachel off into a scurry to freshen up, and Quinn laughs lowly at predictable her girlfriend is.

…Not that she’s in any position to say, really.

Quinn Fabray is whipped for Rachel Berry, and she’d admit that any day proudly.

**x.X.x**

“…You know, that sweatshirt you’re wearing seems an awful lot like one of mine that’ve gone missing,” Quinn notes wryly as Rachel washes her face, and at the almost comedic look that dawns on the brunette, the brunette abruptly freezing up, she almost can’t keep her laugh from bubbling out.

But nope. She’s going to have her _fun_ with this.

“Oh,” Rachel recovers quickly, and it’s subtle, but Quinn catches the brunette’s voice slighty shift in tone, making her bite her lip in amusement as Rachel continues, “what a coincidence.”

“Mm, indeed.” Quinn nods along, trying to seem as nonchalant as she can, and when she doesn’t ask further, the relief she sees on Rachel’s face almost has her breaking her cover.

Oh, this is just _way_ too fun.

She doesn’t say anything about it further afterwards during dinner or anything, intent on drawing it out even as she notices Rachel cast a few guilty glances at her, and pretty soon she’s back to cuddling in bed with her girlfriend, book in hand as she narrates away.

It’s become a bit of a tradition, to read together before they go to bed if they have the time. They take turns narrating, and Quinn still remembers the first time they did this as clear as day.

It was during the tentative early days of their budding friendship, with Rachel coming over to the Fabray household to hang out, and they had settled themselves into the study’s loveseat armchair with slight blushes on their faces.

Grabbing a book from the table next to her, Quinn had fumbled her way through her suggestion that they read together, Rachel responding eagerly, and pretty soon it became a tradition for them to burn through books together, both unconsciously using it as an excuse to cuddle closer to the other.

Letting out a smile at the remembrance of how absolutely oblivious they were that Summer before senior year, Quinn trails off the line that she’s reading, and Rachel nudges her side gently. “What cha thinkin’ of?” the brunette asks playfully, and Quinn just smiles even wider.

“Nothing,” she says in a shit-eating tone, and when Rachel narrows her eyes, she laughs. “Fine, fine, I was just thinking about that Summer.”

Rachel’s eyes flash with understanding and fond memories, and she lets out a chuckle. “Mm, I prefer thinking about the Summer after that though,” she hums, before her eyes turn dark as she practically purrs, “_especially _what happened _during_.”

A low rumble comes out from Quinn’s chest at that, remembering _what_ exactly they had gotten up to pretty much every day then, and she puts the book away, leaning back in to Rachel as she drawls, “Oh _definitely_. How about…a reenactment?”

In reply, Rachel doesn’t say anything other than letting out a choked sound that’s trapped between a whine and a moan, and she moves to fuse their lips together, a small hand grabbing the back of Quinn’s neck.

Taking control of the kiss, Quinn pushes forward so as to guide Rachel down to the pillows, and as she starts to take Rachel’s – or more accurately, _Quinn’s_ – sweatshirt off, a wicked idea forms in her mind.

She pulls back abruptly, and when Rachel emits a sound of protest at it, the expression on her girlfriend’s face turns concerned instead at how Quinn is looking forlornly at the sweatshirt.

“What’s wrong, Quinn?” she asks, and Quinn almost sniggers at how she has Rachel fallen for her act hook, line and sinker. Thank god for that drama minor.

She executes the sad lip-tremble perfectly, and she sighs. “Nothing, I just- I just really miss my sweatshirt, and well – yours looks so alike, and I-”

Making sure not to oversell it so that Rachel will pick up on the fact that it’s fake – honestly this is just _way_ too fun, acting like she actually gives a fuck about a sweatshirt over fucking Rachel into oblivion, and seeing her girlfriend fall for it – it seems to work, and Rachel shifts guiltily.

Quinn, for a second, almost feels bad about it, but then she realizes the _other_ reason why Rachel is shifting beneath her, and she smirks, deciding to continue with this another day – Rachel looks fucking hot squirming underneath her and Quinn’s _horny_, sue her.

“But never mind that,” she dismisses, and she allows her face to take on a predatory look. “I would much rather see that sweatshirt _off_ of you.”

“Oh, _fuck_ yes,” Rachel groans, and Quinn grins like the cat that ate the canary, diving in to pepper kisses along a perfect jaw.

Her fingers fumble only a little in their rush to take off the sweatshirt that’s blocking her path, and when it’s finally off and discarded somewhere on the floor, Quinn’s eyes rake in all the _skin_ that’s being offered up on display.

She’s sure that if she were to look in a mirror, her eyes would be burning golden with arousal and possessiveness, and the corner of her lips can’t resist quirking up.

Now, to properly _deal_ with her little sweatshirt-stealer.

**x.X.x**

A few days after that, she starts to up the ante; making sad comments about how much she misses her sweatshirts, musing to Rachel mournfully why would they go missing, and even coming up with the best subdued sadness voice that she knows makes Rachel go weak.

It honestly just gets more and more absurd as the week goes on, and Quinn’s not even sure how Rachel’s not called her out at this point. Really, her being so out of sorts just because of a few stupid sweatshirts is just utterly ridiculous, but then again, judging by Rachel’s increasingly panicky and guilty hues every time Quinn brings it up, she’s probably worked her girlfriend into such a worried frenzy that Rachel can barely think rationally.

She’s maybe being a bit too mean with her teasing – hearing Rachel lose it can only be fun for _so_ long – so she decides to end her diva’s misery, notifying Kurt that she’ll be there during the weekend.

“Jeez woman, what are you doing to her?” he laughs over the phone. “She’s been high-strung and jittery all week, I’m convinced she’s going to burst into dramatic song any minute now!”

Quinn lets the corner of her lips quirk upwards. “I know, I kind of feel bad,” she admits. “Which is why I’m going to come clean this weekend.”

“…But not before making her squirm some more?” Kurt teases, and at how well he knows her, Quinn simply lets out a dry chuckle.

“Oh god she’s going to be _so_ mad at me,” she realizes with a light laugh, shaking her head.

“Probably,” Kurt agrees, laughter evident in his tone. “You better be prepared to do some groveling afterwards.”

“Yeah yeah, I already have the gardenias ready. It’s going to be totally worth it though – whenever I bring up how supposedly sad I am over the sweatshirts her face is _priceless_,” Quinn hums, before wickedly musing, “and I’m sure she’ll _love_ all the making up I’ll be doing over the weekend.”

“Ew, Quinn, TMI stooooop,” Kurt whines, and Quinn laughs, full and bright.

From the background of his side of the line, she hears a door close, and unknowingly, her breath hitches with excitement, making Kurt sigh dramatically.

She bites her lip, trying to sound innocent. “What?”

In reply, Kurt just heaves another long breath, and Quinn whines, “_Kurt_.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll get her on the line,” Kurt says, grumbling. “God, the things I do for you two.”

“I love you,” Quinn calls teasingly, and there’s a bit of shuffling from across the line, making an insistent smile appear on her face.

Pretty soon, Rachel’s breathless voice is filling her ears, and her beam just stretches even wider. “Quinn, hi.”

“Hey Rae,” Quinn replies, already feeling lighter at the comfort of having Rachel _there_, and they exchange pleasantries, asking each other about their days had went.

When Quinn deems it appropriate to nonchalantly bring up the question as to whether Rachel will be at home all weekend, it’s met with a, “What, you planning to surprise me with a visit Fabray?”

At how hopeful the brunette sounds, Quinn’s face can’t help but morph into a little grin, because even though it’s been absolutely ages, it still makes her giddy inside when she’s presented with the little things that reminds her that Rachel _loves _her, and she drawls, “Maybe.”

She can practically imagine Rachel’s lips stretching into a beautiful beam, and the clarity she can picture it with would almost be startling if not for the fact that Quinn literally spends most of her time studying Rachel like a stalker.

It’s then that the longing and yearning in her heart hits her at full force, and she sighs, her chest feeling like it’s contracting and expanding at the same time.

“_God_, I miss you,” she breathes out, and she can tell by the slight spike of breath from the other side of the line that Rachel’s having similar thoughts.

“Soon,” Rachel simply says, and it’s said with absolute certainty, because she knows that any less than that will have them in a funk for days.

Quinn takes in a breath. “Soon.”

…And then she’ll put on the performance of her lifetime and reap the benefits.

Her lips quirk up, and she has a hard time keeping the smirk off her face. At least she has _something_ to look forward to.

**x.X.x**

When Friday evening finally rolls around, shoulder-bag in hand and about to knock on Rachel’s door, Quinn takes in a breath before she rings the doorbell, and the second she’s pulled in by a familiar arm, crashing into an even more familiar embrace, she sucks in a breath.

And starts_ crying_.

Vaguely, it occurs to her that she’s probably putting way too much work into this than is necessary, but hey, she isn’t getting that drama minor for nothing.

Rachel notices her shoulders shaking immediately, and when she draws back to see tears streaming down Quinn’s face – _wow_ she’s good – the brunette’s face turns concerned in a flash. “Quinn, baby, what’s wrong?” she asks, furrowing her brow, and here, it’s hard to stop herself from bursting into laughter.

This is so stupid.

…But so, _so_ fun.

Quinn lets herself descend into a fresh wave of tears, and she sobs out incoherencies about how much she misses her sweatshirts, all the while burying her face in Rachel’s chest and acting like someone would grieve over a deceased love one.

“I _loved_ those sweatshirts Rachel,” she cries as Rachel guides her into her room with frantic guilt-ridden eyes. “They were my favorites; I wore them every day, and I handwashed them with my favorite soaps, and-”

She lets out an anguished wail, dramatic and over-the-top and probably freaking out Rachel even more because this is literally not her at all, and honestly how the fuck is her girlfriend still buying her act?

“Oh no, Quinn, don’t cry, you know I hate it when you cry,” Rachel tries to comfort her, and the panicked hue of it increasing and increasing in pitch makes Quinn smirk inwardly.

…And also be very grateful that she’d thought ahead and told Kurt to clear from the apartment when she came for a while.

God, this would be absolutely mortifying if he was here as witness.

It’s vaguely mortifying _now_, but the look on Rachel’s face as Quinn pulls all of the tricks in the book to make herself look as sad as possible is totally worth it on all accounts.

Plus, she’s pretty sure that by now, all of Rachel’s logical thought processes have been overridden by guilt and panic, which is probably why she’s even falling for Quinn’s utter bullshit right now, so she figures that her out-of-character outburst is pretty warranted.

Speaking of her bullshit though, she’s sure spouting a lot of it right now, not even sure herself at what’s going on at this point.

“-but, but, I just- why would someone _steal_ them,” she finds herself exclaiming, “because that’s the only conclusion I can come up with and I- well, I- I don’t even know why someone would do that, didn’t they know how much I loved those sweatshirts?”

Quinn could literally not care less about those sweatshirts, and the whole world knew it.

…Except her gullible girlfriend apparently, who’s now shrinking back with contrite eyes, nibbling on her lip in the cutest worry ever while trying to placate Quinn.

“Quinn, I’m- I’m sure whoever did it had their reasons,” Rachel reasons anxiously. “Maybe- Maybe they just liked how they smelled, or- or maybe they felt comfortable and safe in them, and uh- I-”

“But- But then why wouldn’t they _ask_ me?” Quinn says almost pathetically, and she barely restrains herself from just dying in a hole – because seriously, how the mighty have fucking fallen. “I just- I just want my sweatshirts back Rae, is that too much to ask?”

She makes sure to use her best doe eyes, and right then and there, she can tell that Rachel’s reached her boiling point, the guilty and maniac look in her eyes at an all-time high.

“Okay okay I can tell you where your sweatshirts are, can you just _please_ _stop crying Quinn_?” the brunette practically begs, and Quinn very nearly has a laughing fit, but she somehow holds it in, knowing that she couldn’t just come this far only to blow it at the final stages.

Keeping up her pretense of not knowing anything, she traps her bottom lip between her teeth. “But how- how do you know where they are, and wait- if you knew all along then why didn’t you tell me?”

She forces her eyes to start welling up with tears again, and then Rachel’s letting out a sound stuck between a frustrated scream and a choked whimper full of guiltiness.

“Fine, I admit it, I stole your sweatshirts and hoodies because I couldn’t sleep without the scent of you near me, and I feel really bad about it and I’m _sorry_, I just didn’t think that it’d be such big of a deal or you’d start _crying_ over them, and it’s terrible I know I just-”

Rachel abruptly halts in her monologuing.

“Quinn Fabray why are you _laughing_?”

In response to Rachel’s narrowed and slightly bemused eyes, Quinn simply just cackles harder on the bed, tears becoming those of laughter instead, and her fit doesn’t subside even when Rachel stomps her foot.

“Oh god,” she wheezes in between breaths, “how the hell did you- did you even _fall _for my bullshit- I can’t- Fuck I can’t breathe- Oh god I’m laughing so hard I can’t-”

She nearly rolls off the bed, and at the glimpse of Rachel’s red face trying to make sense of what’s going on, it just sets her off even harder, and she practically howls with laughter. “_Shit_, this is so priceless, I’m going to die, I swear.”

At that, Rachel seems to snap out of her trance, and her eyes fill with indignation. “Lucy Quinn Fabray, you better spill and explain _now_, or you’re sleeping on the couch tonight!”

Quinn stops in her onslaught of hysterics for a second, ponders this for another, and then snorts and goes back to her convolutions of laughter again.

“I’m _serious_!” Rachel threatens, but honestly a Rachel Berry trying to act menacing is just like, the cutest thing ever, and it only serves to make Quinn’s endless sniggering louder.

“Rae, we both know you love me too much to do that, plus you said it yourself, you sleep like a baby next to me,” she dismisses quickly, and Rachel pouts, huffing.

“_Quinnnnn_,” she whines, and when tears start forming in chestnut brown eyes, Quinn knows that the tables have been turned, and she swallows in trepidation.

Shrinking back warily as her laughing fit ends, she mutters, “Oh no you don’t, you and your Bambi eyes better stay _away_ from me.” When Rachel just continues to peer at her with rapidly moistening eyes, Quinn determinedly averts her eyes, shaking her head. “Nope, nuh uh, I’m not falling for it dammit, you won’t make me!”

“Don’t find it as funny now, huh?” Rachel huffs, before her voice turns into the most pathetic thing ever, turning Quinn into goo even though she knows that it’s fake. “Honestly Quinn, why would do you that to me?” the brunette questions with her voice cracking, and god-fucking-dammit Quinn should’ve known not to test her girlfriend, the sight of Rachel tearfully sniffling fucking heart-wrenching. “You made me feel all guilty and then didn’t even explain the cruel prank, I was so confused and panicked, how could you put me through that, you own _girlfriend_, who you claim to _love_, I can’t believe-”

“_Fuck_, okay, I yield, I yield!” Quinn surrenders quickly with a pleading yelp, knowing that a Rachel in tears, even in fake ones, is something that she wants to avoid at all cost. “Just- Stop with the guilt-trip, you know I can’t say no to anything when you do that.”

“That’s the whole point.” Rachel smirks, and in less than a beat, she goes from dramatically sobbing to chipper as hell, making Quinn grumble internally at how whipped she is. “_Now_ are you willing to fess up?”

“Wasn’t this supposed to be _me_ making you feel guilty?” she almost-whines, biting on her lip stubbornly, and Rachel’s chest huffs.

“You’ve been making me feel guilty all _week_, I think that I deserve _some_ measure of explanation!”

Quinn gawks at her. “You stole three of my sweatshirts and _five_ of my hoodies!”

“…Okay maybe I went a little overboard but you can’t _blame_ me!” Rachel pouts, voice in a petulant tone as she crosses her arms. “Now can you _please_ kindly explain to me how you knew it was me and then decided to guilt-trip me for a week?”

There’s a slight moment as Quinn contemplates dragging this out even more, but Rachel’s probably had enough and Quinn does _not_ need the waterworks coming back out again, so she simply sighs and says, “Sarah saw you stuffing my star hoodie into your bag.”

“What? But I was _sure_ no one was around when I-” Rachel flushes red. “Never mind!”

At that, Quinn can’t help but let out a chuckle, and when she moves to wrap Rachel up in a hug, her girlfriend doesn’t resist, leaning back into her with a sigh. “For what it’s worth, I _am_ sorry for stealing your clothes,” Rachel apologizes as she fidgets lightly. “I just- You know- I just missed you and I feel…_safe_ when I wear your clothes.”

“You could’ve just asked me for them, I was so worried someone was breaking into my room and stealing them,” Quinn laughs. “You know I would’ve gladly given you all of the sweatshirts you could’ve wanted right, I love seeing you in my clothes, remember?”

“Yeah yeah,” Rachel half-grumbles. “Still didn’t have to keep me squirming for a week though.”

“I have gardenias ready for when I take you out on a date tomorrow to make up for it,” Quinn promises earnestly, pressing a kiss to the brunette’s temple.

“Who says that I’m even letting you take me out for that stunt you pulled?” Rachel huffs, not quite willing to give just yet.

Quinn quirks a brow upwards.

“…Fine,” Rachel sighs in grudging defeat, though her smile is too beaming bright to be contained, and at Quinn’s laugh, she pouts again. “I expect to be pampered tomorrow, Fabray.”

Quinn simply holds Rachel tighter against her, and sweetly, declares, “For you, there’d be nothing less.”

When Rachel blushes, Quinn simply lets her smile stretch into an even bigger beam, and the next thing she knows, Rachel’s closing the distance between their mouths, climbing onto her lap so as to straddle her.

They kiss languidly for a few moments, just content to drown in the other’s presence for a while and settle down all the high emotions from today’s drama, and then Rachel’s softly biting down on Quinn’s lower lip.

It makes her growl, because Rachel _knows_ how much that turns her on, and the kiss turns heated as Quinn slips her tongue inside Rachel’s mouth, moans and breathy whimpers quickly taking over the room.

“Kurt’s not going to be back for another hour or so,” Quinn breathlessly brings up between fervent kisses, and Rachel’s lips curl into a delicious smirk.

“I’m sure we’ll find _some_ way to pass the time.”

Quinn simply laughs, low and throaty with arousal as she draws back slightly to catch her breath. “You better be wearing one of my sweatshirts tomorrow.”

“Oh, _definitely_,” Rachel practically purrs. “I hear sweatshirt season is in order.”

And then Quinn’s frantically pulling her _own_ sweatshirt off, and really, Rachel is just a thief of all kinds, isn’t she?

Because somewhere along the line, when Quinn wasn’t looking, Rachel Berry had stolen her _heart_, and Quinn isn’t ever taking it back.

“…Does that mean I can take more of your sweatshirts now?”

“Rachel, less talking, more kissing.”

“But- Oh. Oh, okay! That…That feels nice. That feels _very_ nice!”

At that, Quinn just shakes her head, thanks whatever god up there that had given her the absolutely perfect thing that’s Rachel Barbra Berry, and goes back in for another kiss.

Rachel’s a sweatshirt-stealing and heart-stealing little shit, and Quinn wouldn’t have it any other way.

** FIN **


End file.
